I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!
by Amayllis Sweetwater
Summary: FINISHED - Halloween Story - They said I couldn't do it, write a romance and keep it light. M/P. Chapters 1-3 are G. 4 has been toned down for this site. Merry and Pippin recall an old hobbit tale and face some nightmares of their own.
1. Darkness and Demons on All Hallow's Eve

**Author: **Amaryllis Sweetwater  
**Title: **I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!  
**Overall Rating:** R  
**Chapter Ratings: **One, two, and three are G. Four is R.  
**Summary: **Co-authored story with Rachel Stonebreaker (check out her version on ff.net, the prologue and ending are different). This is a modification on the traditional tale of Jack and the Lantern, the origin of our modern day Jack O Lanterns.   
**Author's Notes: **Rach tells this story while carving neeps and serving ale and mead at the Ren Faire gig she does. The bit about "neeps" being turnips AND the original Jack-o-lanterns is true. You should hear her when she puts on the accent. It's a scream! Sort of like Billy Boyd doing Shakespeare. I can't understand a word of it. Mead (the drink) sounds like maid (the lass). Here's a quote of Shakespeare she uses to insult people, "Thou hast not the spleen God knock'd a weasel!" Collaborating, as I'm sure Kiyomi and Ezra have discovered, is an interesting adventure. Rach is verbose, rabid about antiquated speech patterns, and terrible at spelling and grammar. I, on the other hand, am perfect. {THAT is NOT true, thou weasel! You are staccato. Blunt. And your propensity for X Rated hobbit unification scares me! ~ Rach} Ah, Rach, that's why you love me!!! Oh, yes, and I prefer "concise" over "blunt". Blunt sounds like an instrument of destruction.

Oh, and Pip's not a baby in this. That would be child molestation on Merry's part. He's 27.

  
**Characters: **Slash pairing between Merry and Pippin (Rach's version is (of course) a good old fashioned no sex hobbit story [hey, I try to corrupt her but she resists])  
**Genre: **Romance, drama  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters. I make no money from my writing about them. I'm not crazy, I just love hobbits.

********************** Chapter 1 ***************************************************

"Pippin" the distant call of a voice broke through the inky blackness. "Pip!" Oh, someone was searching for him. But he shouldn't move. If he did, the ogre would see and grab him... "PIPPIN!" It was Merry. He would help. He'd make the ogre run away! Moving very, very quietly so the ogre wouldn't spy his carefully chosen hiding place, Pippin tried to move towards the faint flickering light he knew was Merry with a lantern coming to rescue him. But the ogre spied him and bolted out to grab his arm!

"Ai!!!!!" Pippin flailed and scratched and swung about trying to snatch his arm from the tightening, terrifying hideously clawed hand. He wrenched free and fell. He was falling off the top of the cliff. The cliff where he'd managed to secret himself away from the monster wishing to keep him forever in the dark. Falling off the cliff down to his death. Oh, Merry, you were too late... I didn't see your light soon enough.

With a sickening thud, Pippin struck the ground.

Merry leaned over him holding the candle high. He shook Pippin's shoulder. "Hey, you! Wake up! You scared yourself so badly you fell out of bed."

"Oi! Merry! You came!" Gasping in a huge lung full of air, Pippin reached up and clutched Merry's nightshirt in a grasp so tight Merry thought if he pulled away, the thick linen just might rend. It didn't. It held together and Merry lifted Pippin off the floor by the strength of his one free arm and Pippin's death grip on his shirt front.

"What's this all about, eh? Nightmares at your age?!" He steadied the badly shaking hobbit with his one free arm while he reached back to the night stand to set down the candle. "Here now. Steady on, lad."

"Everything all right in here?" Frodo asked stepping in to the room his cousins shared on cold blustery nights when they both visited. He was still pulling on a heavy robe as he walked over to throw a log on the barely visible coals. "Merry, you let the fire die out."

"Sorry, cousin. I'm not used to managing my own fires. I guess I've gotten lazy having servants to do it for me." Merry had helped Pippin back into bed and went to assist Frodo with the fire. Pippin didn't lay down but sat where Merry placed him, against the pillows at the headboard, blankets on the floor. Merry's own bed, on the opposite wall was in, albeit a tad less but still obvious state of disarray. Pippin's nightmare had startled him awake and he'd tumbled out of his own bed thinking the smial was on fire or some other disaster.

"I'll get this going again. See to Pip. He's probably freezing. YOUR hands are like icicles, you can imagine his..."

"Right." Merry looked to Pippin and then to Frodo. He was torn between doing his proper duty of keeping the fire going and doing as his cousin asked. It was stupid of him to let the fire burn so low. He hadn't banked it. The back log had burned through and was down to ashes. He was smart enough to know a well banked back log would keep the room warm through an entire night. He shared this room with Pippin so only one extra fire need be tended. And everyone knew if left to his own devices, Pippin would probably be frozen dead by morning as he didn't have the sense of a cabbage when it came to managing things like a fire. He truly was the youngest child of a spoiled brood. But Merry had been ever so sleepy when they retired and the brandy he and Frodo had shared obviously knocked any sense HE had clean out of his head. Frodo's raised eyebrows were enough to send him back to Pippin's bedside, picking up the blankets as he went.

Frodo ran his hands through his already tousled hair. Looking back over his shoulder as he walked out the door, he admonished Merry. "Keep him warm. I'll make some tea for you both."

Pippin still sat at the headboard, though he was shaking like an old dry maple leaf, rattling in the February wind. And it was only October. November. It must be the first by now, the moon had set and the Hunter was below the horizon. Fearing the wrath of Frodo, though the eldest cousin had never given him any reason to fear so, it was really more a fear of failing a duty again, Merry climbed up into bed with the blankets in tow. He wrapped one about himself and one about his cousin. Seeing this wasn't having any effect on diminishing Pippin's shaking, Merry pulled off both blankets and got back up off the bed. He put them into their proper place, forcing Pippin to lay down and then carefully tucking him in before retrieving the heavy feather coverlet and settling that over him as well. Merry's intent as he made his way over to his bed was to retrieve his own coverlet and then return to sit with Pippin until Frodo returned with tea. A pitiful whimper stopped him in his tracks. He spun about looking for the miserable dog that must have made that heart wrenching noise.

"Please... Merry, don't leave me..." Pippin's whisper was almost lost in the crackling of the fire as the new log caught and flared up.

What? That noise was Pippin?!?! Oh, just what had frightened him so badly to cause that distressing sound? "I won't, cousin. I won't." He hurriedly whipped the coverlet off his bed and scurried across the cold floor. Bounding up onto the bed, he sat down next to Pippin who was struggling to sit up. Perched on top of Pippin's covers, pulling his own coverlet over them both, Merry pinned Pippin in place, half sitting, half laying. His attempts at chaffing Pippin's coldness away by rubbing his hands up and down over the younger hobbit's arms proved ineffectual. Mostly he was annoying himself. He wasn't doing a very good job of this latest task. Poor Pippin was looking as miserable as that bird he'd pulled out of the rain barrel years ago one early spring. It died despite his efforts at reviving it. It had lain in his palm watching him, quietly, breathing out its last breath as Merry vainly tried to dry it off and warm it up.

Merry's eyes flew open and his stomach sank. No! Not his Pippin! Merry would hang himself if he failed here! If he had to go to the end of the world to find a way to keep Pippin safe and warm, he would! Pippin was looking at him just like the bird had looked. Sad, resigned. Merry had to DO something. Now. Though the thought was irrational. Pippin was in no danger of dying tonight. He was just cold and frightened. Still, the nagging twisted feeling in Merry's stomach would not ease.

He wormed his way under Pippin's covers, his own coverlet fallen, forgotten, to the floor. Wrapping his arms about his charge, he felt Pip's tension release just a fraction. Pippin curled up into the embrace. Merry absently cataloged the minute thrill this sent through his frame giving him goose flesh. He'd muse over it later, when he had more time to reflect Right now his sole function was to warm up his friend and make him happy. 

"Why the nightmare, cousin? Something you ate? Tell me of it." Merry breathed this onto to the top of Pippin's head, feeling the soft curls brush against his lips as he asked what he realized was an inane question. Pippin never talked about his nightmares. He'd grown up the only son in a household of sisters and was expected to be the brave, big, strong lad. Heir to the Thain. Some day destined to be The Took. Pippin was anything but brave and strong. Silly and foolish. Good natured and absent minded. These were traits of the youngest Took. Still, Merry could hope. Other Tooks eventually got some sense and fortitude knocked into them. But not tonight. Tonight, Pippin was frightened. Maybe Pip would unburden himself and then be able to rest. They'd both feel better if they got back to sleep soon.

Frodo came in with the tea. He carried a tray with the tea pot wrapped in a quilted cozy. Three mugs and some honey and cream balanced it out. Setting down the tea on the nightstand, he picked up Merry's discarded coverlet and pulled up a chair. Frodo was grace in motion. Merry marveled at how he could wrap himself up, sit down and still manage to pour three cups of tea, all with honey (one heavy) and two with cream. And still remain seated and wrapped with the tea unspilt. Merry had no such grace. He had to struggle to sit up, dragging Pippin with him in order to take the proffered cup and still keep them both covered. Pippin had stopped shaking at least and his feet weren't blocks of ice anymore.

"Well, sweet, did you see the ogre again tonight?" Frodo reached across to brush the curls from Pippin's face. 

Pippin settled himself further into Merry's side and took the cup of tea Frodo held out to him. He remained silent as he tasted the tea and held it out wordlessly for more honey.

Merry wondered at this seeming knowledge his eldest cousin had of the mystery dreams plaguing Pippin. The slight twinge set off in his chest by Frodo's informed words faded as Pippin remained quite. 

Frodo stirred the honey into the cooling tea. "Any more honey and I'll just bring you a comb to eat and we'll skip the hot water and leaves!" Frodo's joke brought a small smile to Pippin's face.

"Was it dark again and you were alone?" Frodo asked quietly, placing the honey back on the tray.

Pippin's nod caused a most unpleasant reaction in Merry. The twinge he'd felt wilt earlier with Pippin's initial silence suddenly flared white hot. How could Frodo know about Pippin's nightmares?!?! Pippin told no one. NO ONE. Merry tensed as he realized that, no, Pippin had not told HIM. Why should this bother him just now?

"Some day you'll figure out why you keep having this dream, sweetling. But for tonight, you're not to worry. You have Merry here. He's big and strong. He won't leave you alone to do battle with that boogie. He can keep the ogre away. Can't you Merry?" Frodo stood up settling the second coverlet over the two lads still sitting up in the shared bed.

Another task. This one he was sure he could complete and with very little effort. He'd already sworn to keep his little one safe tonight. Pippin had settled in and had warmed up. Merry'd sleep right there in the same bed if it meant Pippin getting some rest. "Of course I can, Frodo. You can trust me on this one."

"I know I can. So can Pip. I'm off to my bed now. At least this gave me an excuse to get a hot cup of tea and to check my fire." Frodo laughed good naturedly as he ruffled Merry's hair before taking his own cup of tea and trundling back to his room.

A pang of guilt shot through Merry just at that moment. How could he have been jealous that Frodo knew the nature of Pippin's infrequent but frightening nightmares? Frodo was a calming presence they all opened to and needed in times of trouble. Even he'd crawled into Frodo's lap one night after a bad scare when he was but 6 and they were both still living at Brandyhall. Frodo had rocked him and sang to him, finally telling him stories until Merry had fallen back to sleep.

Taking Pippin's now empty cup and setting it down with his own, he pulled the young one in close while wiggling them both under the coverlets. A story. That's what he'd do. He'd tell Pippin a story to help him sleep. One that, in view of Merry's new knowledge of Pippin's fears of an ogre and the dark and the fear of being alone, would help chase away the boogies and evils. The one about the demon, the Great Darkness, and the hero.

"Do you remember the story Uncle Bilbo told us that All Hallows Eve so very long ago? I was 18. It was the year before he left for Rivendell. A year before Frodo came of age. Do you remember? You were so young. Just 10. You said you wouldn't have nightmares... It was a grand story about a hero..."


	2. Tell Us Uncle Bilbo, Tell Us!

**Author:** Amaryllis Sweetwater  
**Title: **I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!  
**Overall Rating**: R (not really all that R, either)  
**Chapter Ratings:** One, two, and three are G. Four is R. Four chapters total! All are written. Just posting 'em Nice And Slow.  
**Summary**: Co-authored story with Rachel Stonebreaker. See her version: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020423   
**Characters:** Pairing between Merry and Pippin (Rach's version is (of course) a good old fashioned no sex hobbit story [hey, I try to corrupt her but she resists])  
**Genre**: Romance, drama  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters. I make no money from my writing about them. I'm not crazy, I just love hobbits.  
**Author's Notes:** This is the same chapter as Rach's. As is the next. Cheating, yeah, but we wrote it together. Just the endings and beginnings are WAAAY different (as in this is SEX and her's is SWEET)

  
************************ Chapter 2 *****************************************************

"Tell us a story, Uncle!" Frodo asked as he wrapped up in his throw and settled into his chair by the fire after handing his old, dear Uncle Bilbo a mug of steaming chamomile tea. He and Sam had already set out mugs for everyone else. The smell of the crushed green leaves and tiny white flowers lent a sweet top note to the stout oak burning down to glowing charcoal in the back of the hearth.

"Well, perhaps. Though it is rather late..." Bilbo sipped at his tea and smiled up knowingly at his oldest "nephew". Frodo had found the brandy and slipped in a hearty spoonful. Bilbo had wondered why Frodo insisted on helping their servant, Samwise, find the tea in the kitchen. Samwise knew perfectly well where the tea resided. Ah, yes, Frodo could be such an intuitive lad. He wasn't really Bilbo's nephew. None of the youngsters crowded close to fire were. Except for the gardener's son, they were all cousins of one sort or the other. But at 110, a seriously ripe old age for any hobbit, Bilbo was called "Uncle". And at his advanced age, he certainly enjoyed a nip now and then, the brandy helping to ease those rare few aches that seemed to be creeping up on him. 

He also rejoiced in anyone taking the interest to listen to him mutter and potter and go on about old half forgotten stories and unfinished tales.

"Yes, please do, tell us a tale! I think one full of boogies and ghouls..."

"Now, now, Meriadoc, you don't want to send your youngest cousin to bed with nightmares forming in his head. Not on tonight of all nights."

"I won't have nightmares!" Indignantly, the youngest in the group sat bolt upright. He'd been laying curled up, as close as he could get to the coals and not catch fire. Slight, almost as much as Frodo, Pippin chilled easy. Though unlike his wiser, much older cousin, he refused to bundle up. He was 22 years younger than Frodo and though they shared Took blood, Frodo seemed to have picked up some common sense about staying warm and healthy. Especially on such a bitter night as this particular All Hallows Eve.

"Are you sure now, Peregrin? I don't want to be responsible for you waking the whole household..." Bilbo chuckled. Of all the children in the entire Shire, Peregrin was the least likely to wake with nightmares. Now, Bilbo suspected, the lad probably instigated a few, what with the pranks he pulled on his sisters. Slimy newts bundled into their underdrawers, squashed frogs in their lesson books, and the worst (or best depending on your point of view) a coney skin sewed up to look like a rat, complete with a whipcord tail and bead eyes and string whiskers, stuffed with barley which had been soaked plump and mixed with whey. When he wailed away on his oldest sister with that monstrosity and the "guts" started to fly, even a number of adults lost their tea. Yes, the lad was a terror and not in the least sensitive. Perhaps that would change as he aged. Bilbo hoped so. The youngster had potential. Bilbo knew he wasn't going to be around to help mold it. He'd have to ask Gandalf to keep an eye on the practical joker just to make sure nothing untoward happened to him before he came of age and finally got some of the wily wisdom his elders were known to eventually possess. It was a wonder that Meridaoc didn't inherit the foolishness of the Tooks. After all he was really as much Took as Peregrin when it came right down to it. Meriadoc inherited his father's Brandybuck name and apparently the infamous Brandybuck courage and common sense. Certainly not that of his mother's line, his mother being the Took's younger sister. Ah, those two lads would make a fine team when their time came to inherit. If Peregrin survived childhood disasters, he'd be Thain. When Meriadoc came of age and his father deemed it the right time, he would become Master of Buckland. Perhaps they'd be lucky enough to have children who fell in love and being second cousins could then marry and keep the two family lines interwoven. More Brandybuck in the Took line wouldn't hurt. And then more Took in those Brandybucks couldn't help but ... well.... help...

"Mister Bilbo, sir? Would there be a story before I'm off to my gaffer's?" Sam, the affable gardener's son, asked ever so quietly thinking perhaps it was time for him to go as maybe Mister Bilbo had nodded off.

"What? Oh, my yes, dear boy, yes! I can't send you off on All Hallows Eve without a proper story to set your hair on end, now can I?"

"Oh, no sir! Not one with ghosties and ghouls. Master Peregrin might'n not be having nightmares, but I'm not too proud to say I would! No, sir, if I could, I'd like to ask for a nice story. One about someone brave and fierce and loyal. Or one about a lass what needs rescuing from a dragon?"

"Oh, Sam, not some sappy love story! I want nasties and imps and hedge witches..." Merry boldly announced his request. "It's All Hallows Eve! We simply must have a terror story!"

Not to be outdone, Pippin chirped up, "YES! I should want a story suitable for tonight!"

Frodo, ever the peace maker, and feeling terrible about his friend Sam's request going under at the insistence of the louder, younger audience, spoke up. "I think we can have it all, don't you Uncle? The one about Jack's son and the lantern, perhaps with an addition or two, eh?"

"Yes, Frodo, I think I could modify it somewhat to appease our entire audience. Yes. Now, let me think." Bilbo tapped his forefinger to his chin and gazed off in thought.

  
**--- End of chapter**


	3. The Story of Jack of the Lantern as told...

**Author:** Amaryllis Sweetwater  
**Title: **I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!  
**Overall Rating**: R (not really all that R, either)  
**Chapter Ratings:** One, two, and three are G. Four is R. Four chapters total! All are written. Just posting 'em Nice And Slow.  
**Summary**: Co-authored story with Rachel Stonebreaker. See her version: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020423   
**Characters:** Pairing between Merry and Pippin (Rach's version is (of course) a good old fashioned no sex hobbit story [hey, I try to corrupt her but she resists])  
**Genre**: Romance, drama  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters. I make no money from my writing about them. I'm not crazy, I just love hobbits.  
**Author's Notes:** This is the same chapter three as Rach's. The next one, my last is WAAAAY different.

  
************************ Chapter 3 *****************************************************

The Story of Jack Of The Lantern (as told by Bilbo Baggins in regards to his mixed and varied young audience on All Hallows Eve)

Once, a very long time ago, there lived a hobbit called Jack's son, or just Jack as his father was now called Old Jack. He was a goodly farmer. A stout lad. And his eye had fallen to the prettiest lass in the Shire.

Bonnie Rose was her name [a heavy sigh from Sam drew everyone's attention momentarily]. Rose she was often called and true to her namesake, she smelled as wondrous and was twice as pretty as the velvet petals. Unlike her name flower, she possessed no thorns. Not an evil or mean bone in her entire body had she.

Everyone who chanced to see her remarked at her beauty, her wit, her charm, her grace [a disgruntled sigh from Merry brought a subdued "ahem" from Frodo], and her modesty. She was a maid of the highest regard.

Jack the simple rustic, held no illusions about courting this fair maiden. She was as out of his reach as the star light in the night skies. But he, as was the wont of every Shire lad, could still dream of someday seeing her shining face turn towards him and grace him with a smile.

Yes, Mistress Bonnie Rose would make any hobbit a worthy bride. But alas, it was not to be. For her beauty had caught the attention of someone far stronger than a hard working farmer lad, far more shrewd than a wiley business hobbit, far more powerful than a wealthy landowner. And far more Dark, Dangerous, and Devious than any hobbit could ever dream. She caught the eye of [here Bilbo paused for effect] *** The Demon of Darkness *** [the gasp from Pippin caused Merry to jump and Sam to look over worried].

The Demon of Darkness, a force to reckon! The Demon of Darkness, upon which no hobbit ever laid eyes and lived to tell. The Demon of Darkness, who claimed his victims on the night when ghosts walk the earth, when the spirits of the Dead come to visit - in the midnight darkness of All Hallows Eve!

No moon shone that fateful night he came and stole away with fair Bonnie Rose. It was thought no seeing eyes watched as the slippery, whispery shadow floated into the garden where our maid had stepped in search of her gaffer's ginger tom. Rose didn't want the cat out on such a night for fear it would not be there in the morn. She did not count on becoming prey herself.

When the light of the All Saints Morn shone bright over the eastern horizon, the ginger tom was found dead on the garden walk by Mistress Greenhill, who came to pick up the laundry. The Old Gaffer she found senseless by the back door. Of young Bonnie Rose, she found not a trace.

Through the following months, sadness settled on the Shire as not word or sighting of Bonnie Rose would be had. The Old Gaffer lost his wits. Something happened that night, something which seemed to have put a curse on the entire hill where it happened. People stopped coming around to visit with The Old Gaffer for fear that the curse would follow them. In truth, there was no curse, only the insane ramblings of a lonely, forlorn old man, living alone without kin.

Jack took pity on the old man, being a kindly young hobbit and hating to see someone else, crazy or no, suffer so. He took to visiting the Old Gaffer on his way home from his daily chores. As winter advanced it became apparent no soul was overly willing to help the old hobbit combat the bad weather. Jack asked his father if they shouldn't but take in the Old Gaffer. After much family discussion it was decided that, yes, out of charity and kindness, they could not let the old hobbit suffer and would make room in their small hole for the new addition.

But to their surprise, the Old Gaffer wouldn't accept. He flat refused, don't you know. In a single moment of lucidity, he announced he had been born in that hole, his daughter had been born and died in that hole and his granddaughter had been born there as well. He was going to die there when it was his time. It was with great distinction Jack noted the old hobbit did NOT say his granddaughter, Rose, had died there as well. Curious, but courteous, Jack said nothing at the time. He would recall this later and of it would be very glad.

The winter settled heavy on the Shire that year and with some urging from Old Jack and his wife Old Bess, the Old Gaffer took Jack to live with him, to care for him, get his meals, cut his wood, and watch after the hole in general. Many a long night (for the nights are long in the winter as we all know) was spent in front of the gentle fire talking of days gone by and exchanging stories. Jack was not a story teller by nature but he was fast becoming one. The Old Gaffer would tell 3 for his every 1 and still Jack ran out of tales. Each night Jack would beg for more time to think of a new story and would usually be granted an extra tale in exchange for a promise of repayment. It was all in good fun and the Old Gaffer never asked for the recompense.

Spring came and then summer. Fall approached and it went without saying that Jack prepared to spend the next winter with The Old Crazy Gaffer (as he was now known). Normally, as you know, we hobbits are not given to malicious gossip (well, there are some, but not all in general) and to label someone Crazy meant that the majority of Hobbiton had to agree. And agree they all did. As the years went on The Old Crazy Gaffer began to talk non-stop about how his Bonnie Rose was still alive, pining away in the clutches of The Great Demon of Darkness. How he heard from her in his dreams and she begged that some hobbit would champion her and bring her back to the Shire. He'd begun to talk TO her on occasion. And this scared many a good hobbit. [Pippin was now sitting upright, head resting on bent knees at Frodo's feet with the tails of the throw tucked in around him. Merry had moved to Pippin's spot by the fire and Sam had moved in right up front of Bilbo].

But it didn't scare good Jack. He listened and said nothing. He took in the rantings and strange talk. He didn't believe it, but he listened. At least he didn't believe until that one All Hallows Eve, several years later, when he opened the back door to let in the grey striped tom (who had replaced the ginger cat) and he'd seen two shadows in the garden. Two shadows, grey and misty - running, entwining, breaking free. One bolted right towards him and he swore it was Bonnie Rose, stretching her hands out towards him. No, not at him but at the light he carried in his hand. The cat arched and hissed and bolted at the bigger shadow yowling. The dangerous looking shadow fled backwards but the second, smaller shadow stayed close. Jack tentatively reached the light forwards but a wind came up and - snffff - the flame went out! But in the faint glow from the light behind him in the kitchen he could just make out the larger shadow jump forward and wrap itself all around the smaller one and together they tore to shreds and wisps on the growing wind.

Jack slammed the door shut, leaning against it, breathing hard and not believing his own eyes. Had he just seen the Demon of Darkness? Was he, Jack, still alive? He found his hands patting his chest and legs to confirm his solidity. 

"So you saw them too, did you?" came the creaky voice of the Crazy Old Gaffer.

"WHAT was that?!?!" shouted Jack.

"Time to repay me young lad... that's what that was.... time to repay me"

"But How!?! What?!? I don't understand!!!" Jack sputtered and stammered as the old hobbit made his way to the pantry where they kept the root vegetables ready for next day's meal.

"You'll have to move fast. I would have done it but I haven't the strength. I've the wit and the courage, but not the strength. You, now, on the other hand, have the strength and I'll warrant the courage. The wit, well, that will be the test now won't it?" With that the Old Gaffer went off down the hall to the front and returned momentarily with Jack's cloak and walking stick. "You'll have to travel light. You've only got a few hours. Where you're going,if you don't come back before morn, you won't be coming back at all."

Jack stood through all of this not believing what he was hearing but knowing deep inside he was going on a heroic quest from which he may not return. How did he know this? Hobbits don't venture out. Hobbits don't like difficult situations. Respectable hobbits do not go wandering. So just how did our Mister Jack know in truth he was to be going on a dangerous trip? He just knew. And he knew, somehow, that if he failed, his would not be the only soul unable to return to the Shire. They would loose Bonnie Rose, too!

He grabbed up his cloak and his stick and started for the door. "I've no idea where I'm going, Old Hobbit, or how I'll get there and back, but if you'll point me in the right direction, I'll bring yer Rose back to ye." He reached for the door but was stopped short by the wizened old hobbit's hand on his arm.

"You'll be needing light. The Demon will not come near you whilst you carry light. Take this lantern. Keep it lit. If you loose your light, you'll loose your life! Mind that lesson, lad".

"Yes sir"

"My Rose told me of a guardian to the gates of the Darkness. A great evil sow, she said. She manages to escape occasionally by throwing the sow food and then darting past. Take these neeps, pigs love neeps and I reckon this one, demon or no, will not be an exception. Save yourself a few when you're going in as you'll need some to get out when you've got my Rose with you."

"How will I find my way there? I've no idea where these gates are or where the Darkness begins or what to do or how to find..."

"Hush now, lad, trust yourself. You'll know what to do when the time comes. Trust yourself. As to getting you started, the grey striped tom knows the way. He'll show you. He's been sent here by Rose as a guide. Follow him and he'll not lead you astray."

And with that the Old Gaffer opened the door, the cat jumped up from the bushes onto the window ledge and meowed with a loud insistent yowl. Jack took the proffered lantern, already lit, his small bag with his flint and what-nots and the large bag of neeps. 

["What are 'neeps', Uncle?" Asked Pippin. 

"HUSH you nit!" chided Merry. 

"Oh, I bet YOU don't know, mister I-know-everything!" 

"I do so!" 

"Then what ARE neeps?" 

Merry gave no answer. 

"Weeeellll? I'm waaaaaiting."

And still no answer came forward.

Frodo finally broke in, "You both should know, having Tooks for parents! I'm surprised. Pippin, you especially! You hear the Old Tookland accent more than any of us. Neeps. Turrrrrr-neeeps." With the burr on the 'r' heavily accented, it became obvious just what neeps were. Sam laughed out loud to witness the discomfort of both youngsters caught not knowing something they should have known intuitively and then stopped himself with his hand over his mouth when he realized just who he was laughing at.

"Go ahead and laugh at them Sam. They deserve it. There's no harm in it, you're among friends" Bilbo leaned forward and laid a hand gently on Sam's shoulder, laughing out loud himself as Pippin tried the accent on for size and then went on practicing with other root vegetable names.

"Carrr-ots. Parrrrr-snips. Po-taaaaa-toes"

"There's no 'r' in Potatos, Pip, but somehow you still manage to make it sound archaic!" Frodo laughed. "Now, if we could get back to our story, I'd like to get to bed BEFORE the fire dies out."

"Just so" agreed Bilbo and the lads settled back in for the remainder of the story.]

Out Jack strode, gallant in looks, yet fearing for his life, determined to not fail in this mission set upon him. The Old Hobbit stood at the door watching Jack and the cat leave the garden through the side gate and walk down the hill towards the forest.

Jack and the striped tom made good time, mostly because Jack had to run to keep the cat in sight. He'd no clue where he was going, so out of breath he was following the grey streak from tree to tree. Soon, though, the mist of the fog ebbing in around the trees made in nearly impossible for him to even see the grey tom and he had to call out for the cat to wait. 

No sooner had he voiced his request, then he heard a sound; a grinding, snapping, ghastly sound, like the sound the gristle makes when you snap a cooked chicken leg from the thigh socket. Jack whirled around and in doing so .... the lantern went out. In a panic he groped for his bag of what-nots for his flint and dropped the entire sack. Then he dropped his bag of neeps, spilling them to the ground. He felt something brush his leg and cried out in terror dropping the lantern at the last. With a CRASH, he heard the lantern break apart and his heart turned to stone. He fell to the ground so frightened, he could not move. The brush against his leg happened again. He was too terrified to even try to kick out to save himself. The loud MEOW at his feet unsettled him so badly he started upright and jumped back what must have been 3 feet. 

MEOW again and this time he realized it was the tom warning him about the light. He fumbled and fretted trying to re-light the broken lantern but he couldn't keep the candle lit without the walls of the lantern shuttering out the wind. A loud moan caused him to scream out in fright. He felt more than heard the Demon of Darkness approaching. With his doom so near at hand Jack froze. 

HISSssss - FFFTTTttt, he heard the cat spit and strike at something and the cold fog which had encircled him blew away ever so slightly, allowing a very small amount of light from the setting sliver moon to fall onto his pile of neeps. Quickly, before the Demon could return, Jack grabbed a neep, took out his belt knife and cut off the top. He intended to use pieces of the neep to repair the lantern. But as the sliced off top didn't even come close to fixing a repair in the smashed lantern, Jack despaired. Yet somewhere, from within, from without, he was not sure but from somewhere a voice told him to make a new lantern. Make one from the neep. So working almost in total darkness and in sheer terror for his soul, he scooped out the flesh of the largest neep and cut slits in the sides to allow the light to seep out. Putting his stump of a candle in it, he threaded a string from his what-not bag through the neep and its lid and lit the candle with his flint. 

All the while, he sat and listened to the striped tom waging battle with the Demon. The wailing and squealing set his hair on end and his teeth to hurting. But still he carried on with his task. He wasn't going to allow the tom to give his life in vain! Finally, Jack was able to get the new lantern lit. He searched about for the cat. Finding it laying on its side, seemingly battled to death, he scooped it up, resting it in the crook of his arm. He could see and feel the Demon advancing, menacing him with a cold chill to his heart and a dread to the very marrow of his bones. But Jack remembered the words of the Old Gaffer. Light will keep the Demon at bay. Now, with the lantern swinging from his arm and everything bundled as safely as he could manage, he advanced on the Demon, following it as it backed down and away.

Through the paths and twists he chased that Demon, his little neep lantern, so craftily fashioned staying lit better than the original one he'd brought with him from the hobbit hole. Time seemed to press on without end as the Demon tried in vain to blow out the light and snatch Jack to his domain of darkness. But Jack was stalwart. He'd made a promise, he'd bring Bonnie Rose back or he'd die trying.

In the last it was Bonnie Rose who found them. She'd managed to get away from her cage again and had followed Jack's light, circling behind, placing Jack between herself and the Demon. They played out this dance, Jack keeping sight of both the Demon and Rose, working with his last ounce of strength to stay between them, clutching the cat to his breast, his little carved neep swinging on its string handle.

And as the first rays of the All Saints Day morn crept over the low horizon, a terrifying banshee wail screeched causing Jack to fall to his knees, dropping the cat and the neep while he covered his ears in agony.

When he came to his senses, who did he see leaning over him clutching his hand? Not the Demon of Darkness, but his own Bonnie Rose. Her tears are what woke him. Her tears and the warm weight of the striped tom on his chest as it kneaded and purred. He lay still for a moment, absently stroking the cat with his free hand and wondering just where he was and who this beauteous maiden crying over him was.

When she started thanking him for saving her, his wits collected about him and he sat up, not wishing to appear rude in the presence of one so fair and above his station.

"Nay not, fair maid, I did not save you. It was the cat who led me to you. I, myself, fainted at the last. It must have been this brave beast who finally fought off the Demon and rescued you."

"No, goodly sir, it was you. The cat played its role well and for that it shall receive a grand reward. But, no, Good Jack. I have been watching you watch over my Gaffer. Monthly, on the New Moon, for months untold now, I have escaped my prison and tried to go home, only to be caught up by the Demon and drug back to the Darkness. But you, dearest Jack, came for me with a lantern that could not be blown out and you stayed with me, keeping the Demon at bay with your light until the rays of the sun could dispel the Everlasting Darkness and break the enchanted spell. Jack, dear Jack, my Jack, it was you who saved me. You and your lantern."

"I shall carry a light for thee, always, my love" he answered with the honesty of a hobbit smitten to the core.

All the way back to the hobbit hole, Jack carrying the cat as gently as he could, wrapped warm in his soft linen undershirt, the two hobbits talked. Bonnie Rose carried on about how kind Jack had been to watch after her sweet Gaffer, who'd been the only hobbit besides herself to live after seeing the Demon of Darkness. Well, and then there was Jack, too. They made a threesome, they did. When her eyes were not staring off into the distance remembering fair times past and dreaming of good times yet to come they were staring at Jack with admiration and a bit of something else. Something more. Adoration. She had fallen in love with her hero and she desired him greatly. He held her close. They kissed right there in the mid-day light. Kissed their first kiss and realized the intenseness of their bond.

They were married the next spring. The Old Gaffer hosted a tremendous wedding feast and Jack insisted the grey striped tom be allowed a place at the feasting table. People thought him strange, a bit tetched in the head but they allowed him his quirks. Quirks such as carving neeps and setting lights in them all around his and Rose's smial every All Hallows Eve. Quirks such as giving his grey striped tom the best cut of meat at every meal. After all, he'd been the only one to face down the Demon of Darkness. And he'd brought their Bonnie Rose home, safe and sound.

  
**--- End of chapter**


	4. I Will Carry a Light

**Author:** Amaryllis Sweetwater  
**Title: **I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!  
**Overall Rating**: R (not really all that R, either)  
**Chapter Ratings:** One, two, and three are G. Four is R. Four chapters total.  
**Summary**: This is a modification on the traditional tale of Jack and the Lantern, the origin of our modern day Jack O Lanterns.   
**Characters:** Pairing between Merry and Pippin (Rach's version is (of course) a good old fashioned no sex hobbit story [hey, I try to corrupt her but she resists])  
**Genre**: Romance, drama  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters. I make no money from my writing about them. I'm not crazy, I just love hobbits.  
**Author's Notes:** This is not the original Chapter 4. I had 3 "comments" about the explicity in the original being posted here on fanfiction.net. Seeing how I've already been banned once, I decided discretion is in order. I reduced this chapter to appease those with offended sensiblities. If you would like to see the original Chapter 4, email me or visit Merry_Piplovers or Nindaiwe or Whether Or No. I will not post on fanfiction's Adult Site because the pop up ads and the emails are REALLY nasty. Yeah, I'm a hypocrit that way, but I don't like to see ladies naked bossums flashed at me at the rate of 4 per second.  
  
************************ Chapter 4 *****************************************************

At the end of the retelling, Pippin looked up from where he lay face down, snuggled into the bed with an arm draped over Merry's chest.

"Was that a good choice Pippin? The one about the monster, the darkness, the hero, and the cat?" Merry gently moved so Pippin could settle in more comfortably by his side.

"Yes, but don't forget about his beloved. The one he rescued." Pippin added propping himself up on one elbow.

"Right. There was that. Do you like love stories then? Is that how you see this one? I always thought of it as the dashing young hero being, well, the... hero, I guess. Not really a love story" 

"How could he have been a hero if he didn't save his lover from the demon? There wouldn't be any story without it."

"Hmmm... I guess you're right about that."

"I like that. The hero being bold and brave and notable. Risking his life for someone else. It's a noble thing to do." Pippin lay back down with his face on his crossed arms turned so he could still look at Merry.

"Are you going to be a hero someday?" Merry rolled to his side so he faced Pippin.

"Me?!?! When butter freezes in July! No, I'm not cut out to be a hero." Pippin turned his face to the wall and after a second turned it back again. "But you are, Merry"

"I doubt that. I really do. I'm not the maiden rescuing type. There isn't a maid in this Shire right now who'd I'd risk the Demon of Darkness to go rescue." Flopping over onto his back and staring at the ceiling Merry had an odd sensation in his belly. Something that unsettled him. He knew he was right and he felt saying it out loud was somehow admitting he was a coward or a cad or some such thing. But he wasn't. He knew he could be brave. But he knew he was right. He wouldn't risk his life, his soul, for just anyone.

"Oh, you're just saying that. I think, in your heart of hearts, if you were faced with the choice of saving someone's life and risking yours, you'd make the sacrifice."

"You're mistaken there, you neep! I don't think there's anyone who could get me to go after the Demon of Darkness..." As he said this he caught the look in Pippin's eyes. His heart stopped. "... No one..." With a resounding thump, it restarted and Merry drew in a sharp breath as Pippin unconsciencely licked his lower lip. All the while Pippin stared at Merry. Merry's eyes grew wider yet as his view of the world narrowed until all he saw were the dilated pupils of his cousin's eyes. It's just a trick of the light, his brain reasoned... they're not pools of liquid meadow grass. That's not adoration, it's just ... it's just ...

"I wish I were a lass." Pippin sighed, more a breath than any rightful words.

"Why would you say that?" Merry's whisper asked in return.

"So someone could come rescue me. Chase away the ogre. Keep a light burning for me to see in the interminable darkness of my dreams. I need to be rescued and held and kissed and looked at with intense desire. Like the maid in Uncle Bilbo's story. That's why I want to be a lass." Pippin's unfocused stare frightened Merry. 

More importantly, Pippin's unspoken words scared the wits out of Merry. It was the look that said it all. Merry couldn't breath nor could he look away. He was petrified he'd blurt out something foolish, something he would rue. His fears were firmly grounded as he found himself saying before he could stop himself, "I'd rescue you Pip. I'd not let you languish and wither in the clutches of an evil demon. I would carry a lantern and search the earth above and below for you..." To his utter amazement, he meant them.

"Yes, but I want the desire and the kisses, too" came the words softly spoken by one who knows what he wants and realizes he will never have it.

"I'd give you that, too, if they were truly your wont." Now Merry was in deeper than he'd meant to go and he was sinking faster than he could control. He'd only intended to comfort his cousin. To warm him, give him a surcease to his nightmares. Not fall into the gentle embrace of another. Not find his pulse quicken when he looked into his cousin's eyes. And certainly not experience this fluttering, deep warming in his belly that was at the same time delightful and yet terrifying. 

Pippin, to his credit did nothing. He had heard Merry's confession and had understood, though he himself was still untried in the ways of relationships. He had felt Merry's arms tighten their embrace so their lower bodies were pressed together while Merry valiantly tried to keep himself at half an arm's length. But Pippin burned. Burned like the fire now roaring in the fire place throwing heat clear out to the center of the room. Pippin suddenly was sweating and had to throw back the coverlet. As he sat up, disentangling himself from Merry's arms, he pushed the two coverlets off his legs, leaving just the blankets.

Merry was unsure of what was to come next, but he knew if he didn't get out of Pippin's bed soon, then he'd regret it. Still, he couldn't make himself move. He lay there, on his back, staring up at his cousin, who, in his turn, sat looking down at him. It was admiration. And desire. Merry could not stop himself from pulling the blankets up and urging Pippin to lay back down.

They stayed like that, settled side by side, staring at each other, not touching, breathing in alternating breaths. One would breath out and the other would breath in. It was as if they were living on each others' air. It was the closest either dared to move. The fire slowly burned down from it's initial hot flames to a comfortable warmness. The light in the room dimmed accordingly and the two hobbits still lay together longing and wanting, but not moving.

"Why the dreams, Pippin? What's happened?" Merry finally broke the silence. Though he longed to do so, he resisted touching his cousin for fear he would not be able to stop at just a touch.

"I don't know. I truly don't. Sometimes when I fall asleep, I just keep falling. It's always dark and some THING waits for me. It creeps behind me no matter my path or purpose." Pippin shook his head, closing his eyes as if to dispel the thoughts.

Merry's heart clenched when he saw the worry lines on Pippin's brow. He couldn't fathom a fear so great as to cause a reoccurring nightmare. Certainly not in his little cousin. "Surely you've some idea? I mean, Pip! You of all hobbits have not a care, not a worry!"

"Ach!" Pippin's eyes flew open and narrowed as he scowled at Merry. "What makes you think that?! I've many a concern... it's not all cream and berries you know, being son of the Thain!" Pippin riled at Merry's implication. Why did everyone think he had the easy life? His sisters constantly reminded him of his position as baby in the family, not letting him make decisions, treating him as if he were still 15 years old. But his parents, especially his father expected him to act the adult now that he was nearing his majority. Pippin felt ill prepared and at a loss for his entry into hobbit society in a few years. His position in the family was a conundrum, baby and leader. He was torn in two and hated every moment of it.

Merry saw the anguish in Pippin's eyes and dared to brush the curls away from those bottomless green eyes. Pippin jerked back at the touch, surprised and infuriated.

"Don't treat me like a baby, Merry! I hate it!!!"

"I wasn't ... it wasn't meant... Oi, Pip, you're stubborn!" Merry sighed and moved away slightly to give them both some room. "I want to understand, tell me."

"You won't understand. You're an Only. You've no sisters. Your family didn't have to wait through three other births before their heir came along. They've always known there would be a Master of Buckland in the family as soon as the first child was born. They didn't have to try for more. You're lucky. You're the first born and the only born and the heir and everyone has always treated you as such. *I* am the *special* one. *I* am the baby, the darling, the Little One. My family loves to spoil children. We capitalize in that arena. But now that I'm nearly 33, I am the hope of the family, I am the son, I am the heir. Try that on for size and tell me if the coat's not too big to fill and too small to fit? I am NOT prepared for this job and I do NOT want it."

Though Merry had not an inkling of why Pippin hated the idea of being Thain, he could understand something was tearing at his friend. Merry indeed had been prepared for his role as Master of Buckland. There was never any doubt about his future. It suddenly occurred to him, however, the entire Shire in fact had dealt Pippin a misleading hand. He'd been encouraged by everyone to play and be silly. It was the role of the youngest Took. Everyone expected him to be a jester and a clown. This was true in generations past, but this generation, the youngest Took was the only heir. No other male children had been born into the immediate family except Merry. Saradoc, his father, claimed him as a Brandybuck so his mother couldn't very well claim him to be Thain. Well, actually it could happen, but the Took, Uncle Paladin, now had an heir, so it was out of the question. Paladin's son would inherit and that son was currently suffering nightmares because of the stress. No one realized just what turmoil they'd created by treating Pippin as the baby his entire life and then expecting him to straighten up and behave the adult in just a few short years. It was hard on Pippin. Nonetheless, it could be done.

"You ARE right. I don't understand how you don't want to be Thain. It's a tremendous honour. Yes, I've been born and bred to be Master of the Eastern Shire. But it's no bed of petunias on my side of the Brandywine either Pippin. Still, though, there are a good many benefits to our positions. I do understand it's not as if you've had a lot of guidance. We've all been remiss in leaving you in the dark to flounder and struggle." Merry moved a little closer when he saw Pippin nod with a look of vindication. "It seems we've both got our worries and cares. But we've got each other, too. You'll see, we'll have fun once we both inherit. I won't let you fail."

"Merry, it's not about me failing. It's about me not knowing what's expected." They were two different personalities not communicating on the same level. It was frustrating for both of them.

Puzzled, and realizing that he was upsetting Pippin more than he was calming him, Merry tried very hard to understand just what irked his cousin so.

"I'm afraid, Merry. I'm afraid of doing something wrong and being thrown to the wolves."

"Oi, now THAT's a silly thought!"

"YOU don't have Pimpernel, Vinca and Pearl as sisters! You just try to do something on your own with your own ideas and suffer under their scrutiny! They'll not miss a chance to announce to the world just where and how I bungle any effort at seriousness. Well, Pearl's nice enough most of the time and Vinca leaves me alone, but oi! That Pimpernel is a terror. She so officious and demanding. I think she'd make a GREAT Thain. And it's not as if my da helps much, though I don't think he means ill. His sisters were all younger. I don't think he understands. You know, he's a lot more like you than like me..."

Merry smiled at the thought of being compared to boisterous, out-spoken Uncle Paladin. No, Pippin was Paladin's son, that much was obvious. Though Merry was beginning to understand being last born probably did have it's woes and troubles. Who would have thought The Demon of Darkness was named Pimpernel? In all actuality, the Demon of Darkness probably came in the guise of many a demanding hobbit to poor Pip. Oh, how he wanted to take him up in his arms and smooth away the worries. Merry'd had a pain of sorts growing in his chest these past few months since he realized Pippin was having nightmares. He so wanted to just brush them away. Merry wanted more than anything right now to make all Pippin's fears melt. But he knew if he voiced this, Pippin would think Merry was coddling him. He hurt to his quick thinking Pippin would rebuff any aid. And he burned with a desire to make things right. It was the only thing he honestly felt he must do with his life. Make Pippin happy.

Since he had held his cousin earlier that night and felt the tension of the lurid dream fade, a fierce feeling began to build in Merry. It was his duty to protect Pippin. Wisely, he understood protecting did not mean sheltering. Somehow, some way, he'd have to figure out what Pippin needed to survive, grow up and still be his carefree, happy-go-lucky self. What Merry needed would have to wait.

"I'm not sure how I can do it, but I promise you, Peregrin Took, I'll not let anyone get to you while I've got a breath in my body, of that you can be most assured!" Merry swore adamantly. "You'll have to make your mistakes and flounder in the darkness on your own. I can't do that for you. But I'll be there, holding a lantern to show you the way."

Deep inside, Pippin knew, without a doubt, Merry meant every word he said. Merry would help him. It's was exactly the way he'd dreamed. He smiled briefly, faintly satisfied he wasn't alone. Looking up at Merry, Pippin almost gasped aloud. A shock ran through him from his head to his feet. Merry was staring at him with a look that could only say "possession". It was a look that thrilled Pippin beyond his wildest thoughts.

They both fell to silence again, not knowing where to go with the conversation and both fearing any touch would bring about something they were certain wasn't proper hobbit behavior.

"Oi, how I WISH I was a lass. Then you'd kiss me and we'd be over this silly interlude!" Pippin lamented. That was all it took for Merry to make up his mind.

"Damn me to the Darkness, I don't care if you're not a lass" he whispered as he worked his arms about Pippin's chest and drew him close, this time not trying to keep half an arm's length apart. The kiss was sweet. Sweet and soft. Pippin was a very willing pupil. Merry pushed his top leg in-between Pippin's and edged his hip up to Pippin's thigh. Much more experienced, though only with lasses, Merry knew what he wanted and was willing to see if this worked the same way. It did. He felt the satisfying heat move from the fluttering in his belly to tighten his groin. He shifted to straighten out his hardening member.

Pippin groaned and gasped, grabbing at Merry with a jerk. He buried his face in Merry's nightshirt and waited, tense, unmoving, not knowing what to do but understanding Merry did and would soon enlighten him.

Merry took his cue that Pippin accepted his lead and softly nudged Pippin's upper leg back and away. With a gentle push, he rolled Pippin onto his back and eased himself on top. He was now laying flush out on top of Pippin, his full weight on the slighter lad. Merry moved to support some of his weight on his own arms.

Pippin feared he'd made some errant move and Merry was making to leave. "Don't go Merry! Don't leave me."

"Oh, I don't think you'll get me to leave anytime soon *now* sweetling." Merry laughed warmly and moved his hips to edge himself down just a bit so he could get both his knees to the bed between Pippin's. With a little effort he managed to get some leverage with his legs and slowly spread Pippin's further apart as their groins met. It felt as if he was standing next to the ferrier's fire! Looking down at those liquid meadow grass eyes, .... yes, they *were* liquid meadow grass, the burning in his belly moved to a searing in his chest. His heart was hammering so loud he was sure Frodo could hear it in the next room. Pippin was breathing hard and fast drawing Merry's attention from eyes to lips. What happened next was the natural next step in all of Merry's previous sexual encounters, he leaned in and kissed those lips, opening them with a gentle nudge of his tongue, causing his own hips to buck in response.

What happened next was NOT the normal progression of any of Merry's earlier seductions. He fell in love. Madly, helplessly, hopelessly, and passionately in love. But then, if he'd thought about it, he'd been in love all along, he just hadn't realized it until he bestowed that kiss.

By this time, Pippin had started shaking violently. If this HAD been any other come togethering, Merry wouldn't have been able to stop. He was young and male and hence a sexual creature and once started found it incredibly difficult to think with anything other than his pelvis until his needs were satisfied. But Pippin's shaking upset him. And he cared deeply about his love. More than anyone. He'd fight the monsters and darkness for his Pippin. He could certainly stop his own lust to appease whatever fears were crowding him. Merry stopped and made to pull away.

"Why stop?!? Oh, don't stop... don't leave me Merry, don't stop!" gasped Pippin, who still shook uncontrollably underneath Merry.

"You're shaking, Sweet. I don't want to push you into anything..."

"PUSH --stars in the skies-- PUSH, Meriadoc!!! Don't you dare stop now!" Pippin whispered fiercely at Merry as he pulled himself up with his arms locked around Merry's neck. When Merry did not make to move away or come closer, Pippin wrapped his legs about Merry's waist, effectively lifting himself clear off the bed.

Merry sank down crushing Pippin beneath him and shoved firmly, grinding their groins together and eliciting a growl from himself and a yelp from Pippin. The yelp caused him to pause again.

"PLEASE, Merry, PLEASE! What must I do to get you to continue?!?" begged the nearly hysterical younger lad. 

"Nothing ... " Merry rocked. "Nothing ..." with another gentle shove. Merry kept up a practiced rhythm that pushed Pippin close to release in a very short time.

"oh - oh - oh - oh - oh - no - no - no - no - no" Pippin could say nothing coherent. He was babbling. Merry kissed him again to stop the prattle. It felt wonderful, better than any lass he'd been with. He felt Pippin's legs tense and tighten about him. He stopped abruptly, not wishing this to be over so soon. 

Pippin urged him on, crying out into the kiss and trying to grind his hips to hasten his own release.

Merry broke off and chided, "not so quick, not so quick. I'm not ready yet." Settling himself heavily on top to force Pippin down beneath him, Merry sat astride Pippin's lap.

"Oi! I'm going to scream if you stop now!" Pippin threatened. 

"No, you won't. Because I'm going to teach you to kiss..." and true to his word, Merry began a lesson in the finer arts of kissing. Either he'd been a much more experienced youngster or he'd forgotten his first time. Merry was not prepared for Pippin's urgent buck and exclamation as the younger hobbit exploded during the second deep kiss. Embarrassed and ashamed, Pippin rolled over and away to face the wall.

Merry would have none of it. "Don't say you're sorry, Pip. It's to be expected. Didn't you enjoy it?"

"But I wanted to last as long as you! I didn't want it to end..." Pippin stayed facing the wall.

Merry laughed out loud and snuggled up behind Pippin. He lifted Pippin's nightshirt up and away. Pippin thought it was kind of Merry to get the sticky mess away from his front until he realized just what Merry was doing. With a jittery sigh of anticipation, he settled back allowing Merry to gentle him with soft touches and whispered kisses. 

Merry hoped beyond hope he wasn't making a mistake, hoping Pippin wouldn't hate him for this, that he wouldn't hate himself and perhaps, if it all worked out, they'd be able to do this again, very soon. He quite effectively took Pippin's mind off any darkness and bogies. He finally felt Pippin go rigid and jerk hard, once, twice. He breathed a soft sigh and snuggled in even closer.

They woke with the dawn. Wrapped in each other and their blankets with the coverlets on the floor.

The moment was awkward for both of them. Merry spoke first, timidly, "Pip?" Timidity was something he did not carry well. "Pippin. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you last night. I was out of line."

Pippin looked up from his nest in Merry's arms, dismayed. He'd not felt anything was wrong or rushed or ... amiss. Now here was Merry, his Merry, ... well, he thought His Merry, acting contrite and saying things got out of hand. He swallowed hard. "Think nothing of it, cousin" was the best he could do considering his new wonderful light filled world was falling apart. But he couldn't help himself from adding, in a very small voice, "I guess I hoped too much that you could be my hero, rescue me and love me, too."

"Pip! I ... I ... I AM your hero!" Merry tried to recover any good grace he might still have by not denying his cousin this truth despite the automatic social fears threatening to overwhelm him. "I'll keep the boogies away. I told you I'd do that!" Why did he have to muck up things so badly? After his realization last night he wanted to be Pippin's Jack of the Lantern, to keep away the dark, to bring him to safety. Merry was ever so confused. He knew it was allowed to feel protective over one's younger cousins, to want to keep them from harm, to be best friends but the other part, the adoration from Pip, the desire from himself, the ... the ... sex. THAT wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't allowed. How did he tell his cousin this and still let him know he'd no need for those nightmares anymore because his Merry would keep a light for him, he'd be there always? Oh, dash it all! Why did he have to fall in love?!?

Pippin smiled wanly. He understood. Merry was embarrassed by the sex. Pippin said as much and then apologized himself. He'd not lead Merry to that again if Merry'd promise to still be his friend and to hold him occasionally when Pippin needed it.

"Oh, my sweet, I'm not so sure I can promise to hold you without kissing you" Merry finally admitted while looking into those liquid meadow grass eyes. Curse his body, he already felt the response in his belly the look of Pippin's forlorn angst engendered.

"Then kiss me. And keep me from the monsters. And be the one to carry a light for me."

And with that, Merry kissed him, sealing his fate and his love for all time.

**------ The End**


End file.
